The Truth
by MandalaMarigold
Summary: Cora learns she has a third grandchild from Mrs. Drewe.


AN: This is a one-off that takes place during episode 5.7. I've played around with the conversation that might have taken place between Cora and Mrs. Drewe. Thanks for reading!

I'm just taking these characters out to play, everything and everyone belongs to the keepers and creators of the show. Rating K+

* * *

Cora slowed her pace as she left the room, pausing as the door clicked shut behind her. Her mind was racing as so many thoughts pushed their way in to focus. Rosamund and Violet looked nearly identical, careworn and nervous, as they came in to the library to greet them. Their behaviour was peculiar, however Cora had learned long ago not to question Violet, or her motives. What was more unusual was this summons from Mrs. Drewe. And then, of course, there was Edith, disappearing without a trace. As she stood in the doorway to the library, staring blankly in front of her, she heard the distinct sound of someone clearing their throat. Cora looked up, blinking out of her trance, and into the perplexed gaze of Mrs. Hughes.

The housekeeper took a step towards her. "Is everything alright, M'Lady?"

"Oh? Yes," Cora forced a smile, her cheeks moving unnaturally close to her eyes. After years of working for the Crawley family, Elsie Hughes was well versed in her Ladyships expressions and could spot its disingenuosness from across the hall. Cora moved towards the other woman, grateful for the distraction. "Thank you Mrs. Hughes," she paused "is everything in order for this evening."

"Yes M'Lady", sensing her Ladyships apprehension. "I'm just seeing to the dinning room before I move on to the rooms upstairs" She paused as she took in Cora's features more closely. "Are you quite well, M'Lady?"

"Mrs. Hughes," Cora tucked her chin down towards her shoulder, "I'm fine. Just a bit preoccupied with…..everything," she sighed with a shrug. "And now I must go and meet with Mrs. Drewe."

"Mrs. Drewe?" Mrs. Hughes swallowed, trying to sound casual. "From Yew Tree Farm?"

"Yes," Cora rolled her head up, stretching out her neck, before looking back to Mrs. Hughes, "she's here without an appointment. I can't fathom what it's about."

The subtle changes to Mrs. Hughes demeanor brought Cora in closer, "Do you know why she's here?" she asked hopefully.

"I don't know what I know?" Mrs. Hughes said with a weak smile, "except that I better get on." The housekeeper took a step backward, away from her Ladyship

"Of course," Cora straightened and smiled more sincerely than before. "I suppose I should too."

* * *

Cora sat on the settee in her sitting room, her thoughts split between worrying about Edith and wondering what it was earlier, that Rosamund and Violet were not saying. A quick knock on the door interrupted her ruminations and the door opened. Barrow entered first and then announced, "Mrs. Drewe, your Ladyship"

Cora smiled weakly, "Thank you, Barrow."

He nodded curtly and hesitated as Mrs. Drewe shuffled uncomfortably into the room.

Cora was taken aback by the other woman's appearance, so much so that she stood. She smiled and took a few steps forward, trying not to appear overly concerned. "Please, come in. Would you like to sit?" Cora held out her arm, offering a chair. Her other hand moved unconsciously to her stomach.

Marge Drewe looked up, making brief eye contact with Cora, but she held her position and quickly averted her eyes to a spot on the floor in front of her Ladyships feet. Her hands fidgeted nervously at her sides.

It was clear that Mrs. Drewe was upset, which pained Cora, yet simultaneously irritated her. Today was not a good day for this, and after a moment of uncomfortable silence Cora asked the obvious question, "What can I do for you, Mrs. Drewe?"

"I love her, M'Lady." Mrs. Drewe blurted out mournfully.

Cora's features clouded with confusion and she straightened. What was this woman here to tell her? Who? What was she saying? Cora's mind raced as she calculated the possible variations of this conversation. "I haven't a clue what you're talking about, Mrs. Drewe." Cora clasped her hands in front of her, bracing herself. Her mind was jumping to some indecent conclusions. "Who?"

"Marigold!" The farmer's wife grew angry, practically shouting at the Countess of Grantham.

Cora stiffened against Mrs. Drewe's tone. That was not the answer she was expecting. There was a brief moment of relief, as she had been preparing herself for a tawdry confession of an immoral nature. "Of course you do," Cora smiled at the other woman, attempting to be gracious, ignoring Mrs. Drewe's impertinence.

"…She took her!" Marge continued with a raised voice, cutting Cora off.

Cora furrowed her brow, "What?" Feeling she needed to ask yet another simple question, "Who?"

"She took her!" Throwing her arms forward in exasperated anguish, "Lady Edith!" Mrs. Drewe's red-rimmed eyes met Cora's as they slowly widened with horror.

"What are you saying?" Cora felt her heart begin to flutter anxiously in her chest. She stumbled backwards.

"Lady Edith took MY little girl," the venom in Marge's words seethed out of her. And like a blow to the stomach Cora dropped back to her seat, breathless. She closed her eyes trying to collect her thoughts, her hand gripping at the arm of the settee so deeply her fingertips burned.

"Why?" She asked with her eyes closed, hiding herself from Mrs. Drewe's despair. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure!" Mrs. Drewe restrained herself enough to keep her hysteria at bay. "She claims that Marigold is hers!"

Cora watched as Marge reached in to the pocket of her coat and pulled out bits of torn paper. Holding out her hand she squeezed the crumpled paper tight within her grasp, "she says she's her mother!" Disbelief and betrayal echoed in her voice.

Cora pinched her eyes closed again, trying to contain herself. Mrs. Drewe awkwardly stepped forward and dropped the scraps of paper onto Cora's lap. A small piece of the torn paper touched the back of her hand as it fluttered down and settled on her skirt. Cora's eyes snapped open and looked straight up, into Mrs. Drewe's. The misery and torment that met her gaze rendered Cora speechless, and eventually she had to look away.

Her breathing hastened as she looked down at the crumpled paper that was slowly unfolding in front of her. She made out the words 'Birth Mother' in French and read Edith's name neatly handwritten next to it. She picked up the paper and scanned over more French words, many of which she was too dazed to interpret, and then read 'naissance vivante - enfante: fille'.

A single tear fell from her eye and landed on the piece of ripped birth certificate she held in her hand. A baby girl.

She could sense Mrs. Drewe still watching her, standing far too close for comfort. Without looking up Cora grimly asked the other woman to "Please. Sit," and this time she obliged.

She reread the words 'mère biologique' and an ache filled her chest.

A long silence filled the room as both Cora and Mrs. Drewe struggled to regain their composure. Cora focused on her breathing as a cold sweat ran down her spine. Questions had begun rolling around in her mind, and she couldn't help but wonder if she would ever get the answers she needed. Her clammy hands shuffled the bits of paper into a small stack on her lap. Mrs. Drewe's soft sobs pulled her back from her thoughts. She looked up, to the fragile woman sitting before her. Her heart sunk deeper in her chest.

Mrs. Drewe's emotional instability matched her claim, which fit with the timeline of Edith's departure. Cora had quickly worked out some obvious conclusions making Mrs. Drewe's story seem plausible, yet even with the evidence in her hand, that noted her own daughters name, she still needed more information. Eyeing the other woman carefully, "Can you tell me what happened?" She asked, and remembering her position, "Calmly," she cautioned. "From the beginning."

Marge's cheeks pinked with embarrassment and she nodded in agreement. She swallowed thickly and began explaining her understanding of the situation, adding in pieces of "Tim said…" followed by a shrug, which Cora took to understand as Mrs. Drewe's own skepticism related to Marigold's arrival and subsequent life with them.

Cora sat silent, and still as she listened. Marge became less emotional and more matter-of-fact as she told her version of the story, however she stopped short of the conclusion, where Edith walked away with the little girl she had been raising as her own for nearly a year.

Mrs. Drewe watched the colour slowly drain from Cora's face as she told her story, and when she was finished speaking she felt remorseful. The sad, far-away expression on Cora's face gave her no satisfaction or resolution. Now it was her turn to sit patiently, as Cora processed what she had just heard. Clearly she had shocked the Countess of Grantham, a casualty of her impudence, but Marge was angry and hurt, and desperately wanted someone else to understand her despair.

When she could no longer stand Cora's silence she softly apologized, "I'm sorry M'Lady. It was wrong of me to come here."

Cora appeared qualmish as she turned towards Mrs. Drewe. The two women stared at one another in consternation until the farmer's wife shifted her eyes to the ground. "I shouldn't have come. I'm sorry."

Cora momentarily put aside Mrs. Drewe's apology for more answers. Her voice was clear and strong. "Am I to understand that my mother-in-law came to see you yesterday?"

Mrs. Drewe looked up, nodding.

"At the farm?" Cora continued in disbelief.

Mrs. Drewe nodded more emphatically.

"And Lady Rosamund came to visit you, with Lady Edith?" The colour had started to return to Cora's face, making it burn with anger.

"Yes M'Lady," and Marge stood abruptly. She could sense the shift in Cora's mood. "I should be going."

Cora stood as well, grateful that she wasn't being forced to push the woman out the door. She rang for a footman. At this moment, all she wanted was to be alone. "Mrs. Drewe," the softness in her voice caught them both off guard. "I can see that you have been treated badly." She paused, "Losing a child…." Cora trailed off, "I'm sorry."

The emotionally battered woman did her best to maintain her composure.

"I know it is an insult to ask you to keep this information to yourself," Cora sighed and continued sadly. "But you understand, I must to speak with Lady Edith." There was another long, somber silence between them. Mrs. Drewe pulled her hands over her face as tears started to fall again.

Cora's voice cracked. "I don't know what else to say, except that I'm so very sorry."

Mrs. Drewe couldn't look up at Cora. She came to the Abbey impulsively, with no agenda other than to out Lady Edith. She had not anticipated the effect the second-hand confession would have on the person hearing it. Marge swallowed a sob and murmured, "Me too, M'Lady."

The door creaked open and in walked Barrow, suspiciously eyeing the two women, who were standing exactly as they had been before he left. "Thank you, Marge, for coming today." Cora addressed Mrs. Drewe informally, hoping to impress upon the other women that she was grateful for the information that she now possessed.

Mrs. Drewe simply bobbed her head and offered a sullen "M'Lady," before heading for the door. Barrow carefully watched her Ladyship, hoping for a hint of what this meeting was about, but she appeared apathetic, revealing nothing.

Nothing until the door clicked shut and she doubled over where she stood. Her breathing growing ragged by the second. She put one hand on her hip for support, and the other covered her mouth to muffle her sobs.

* * *

She didn't hear the door open, or realize Robert was in the room until he stopped next to her and gently placed his hand on the small of her back. Startled, she turned from the window to look at him. She smiled gently, fighting against her emotions to maintain her composure.

"You've been in here a long time," his thumb moved gently on her back. "What did Mrs. Drewe want?"

Cora turned to him about to answer, when something outside caught Robert's eye. "There's Tom." He said matter-of-factly. "We should head up. Carson rang the dressing gong 5-minutes ago."

Robert reached for her, wrapping his hands around her upper arms. "My darling, are you alright?" He asked, suddenly looking concerned. "Are you worried about Edith?"

Cora closed her eyes and nodded. Robert squeezed his hands and then ran them down the length of her arms, finally clasping her hands within his. "I'm sure she's fine." He paused, "She's smart." He chuckled, "and resourceful." He leaned in and kissed Cora on the cheek. "What trouble could she possibly get herself in to?"

Cora's eyes brimmed with tears, and for a second she thought the truth might come bubbling out of her.

Robert thought his poorly timed joke had upset her. "I'm sorry," he admonished himself. "We'll find her. Things will turn up." He kissed the the inside of her wrist. "You'll see."

Clutching her hand he started to walk towards the door, pulling her along with him. "Now, we must get on. We'll soon have a house full or people without a hostess to greet them."

She nodded and smiled weakly.

Robert stopped short of the door and leaned forward to pull it open. With his hand on the doorknob he stopped and looked back at her. "What was that business about, in the Library, with Mama and Rosamund?"

Cora looked at him, the fire reigniting in her chest.

"Peculiar, wasn't it?" He asked as he pulled the door open for her.

She stepped over the threshold and looked back at him. "I'm not sure," she did her best to sound casual. "But I intend to find out."


End file.
